The Last Agreement of Abraham Van Brunt
by SierraVictor
Summary: Abraham Van Brunt is dying, but in his last moments a voice comes to him with a proposition. My take on how Abraham became the Horseman.


The Last Agreement of Abraham Van Brunt

Cold

Empty

There was nothing left inside of Abraham Van Brunt. All the love that had once rested inside of him, the compassion and empathy that had stirred in his bosom, the red blood that proved he was a man, was seeping out of him. A hole in his chest, a hole in his back, all of his blood and guts and love and loyalty all of it oozed out of him and painted the grass beneath his back.

_Good_, he thought.

Ichabod was gone, he had fled. Abraham remembered commanding him "Go." His mouth had ordered, but in his heart Abraham cursed Ichabod Crane. He cursed that man, that traitor who thought he could steal from Abraham Van Brunt. Did he not know who Abraham was, who his father was, or his grandfather? They were landowning men, rich men, powerful men, they would make Ichabod pay for his theft of Katrina.

They were upon him now, the Hessians. But Abraham could not bring himself to care. _Let them come,_ he thought. _The worst has already been done, this is just the encore._

"Do you yield so easily?" A voice in his head asked. It was a man's voice, it reminded Abraham of his father, his ever-disdainful father. I will make you proud, Abraham had thought when he had joined the American Rebellion; I will prove myself the heir of my ancestors. And yet, here he was, bleeding on a field for a mission that no one would remember. And whom could he trust to tell of his glory and patriotism in battle, Ichabod Crane? Surely not. Ichabod would continue to lie; he would take all the credit. _How have I been so foolish, to trust a man like that._

"Look at you," the voice said, "dying alone on the ground, abandoned by those who swore to love you and stand by you. Never trust a traitor."

_No, _Abraham agreed, and was there anything left inside of him, he would have wept. _Katrina, the love of my life, and Ichabod, my best friend, how long? How long had they been whispering in corners, laughing with each other, and mocking me? I would have given her everything. She never would have wanted; she never would have had to dirty her hands again. What can he give her but a tainted bloodline and middling poverty? Ichabod had tricked her, that must be it._

"He is charming," The voice said. "A wolf dressed as a lamb, leering and lurking amongst the innocent sheep."

_What is happening to me?_ Abraham asked the voice. He had been pulled up to a sitting position and his back was against a tree. The Hessians stood all around him, staring down at him, their heads tilted like inquisitive birds. He was done bleeding, he was empty, nothing human left in him and yet still he remained, _Where is the white light, where is heaven? _

"What happens to you now depends on your choice," the voice that only spoke inside of his head said. "Ichabod lives, he travels with the documents from Washington and when he is finished he will return home a hero. The people will worship him, and Katrina will fall at his feet."

Something within Abraham stirred, something in his guts, in the pit of his stomach reared up.

_It's not fair._

"So make it fair."

_How?_

_ "_Join us," the voice whispered. "Your old life was seeped in mediocrity. Your own father thought you a constant disappointment, your fiancé laughed when your back was turned and called you a silly fop, your own best friend was always in her ear, whispering lies against you. Why would you fight for them?

_Why would I fight for you?_

"Because we can give you what you want."

_Katrina_

_ "_When it is done, she will be yours. Mind. Body. Soul."

Abraham could see her, her red hair, the smile of her perfect, white teeth. They were sitting across from each other in the dining room of his father's mansion. The candles were all lit, the tapestries hung, the mirrors glinted and reflected back the perfect scene. The servants bowed to him, his own father tipped his glass in pride at his boy. It was Abraham's house now, his money, his property. The most important people of the town were there, all of them deferring to Abraham, calling him a hero, calling him fearless and brave and deserving of more than anyone could give. They ate from the family's good china, feasting on roasted quail and oysters, champagne shipped across the Atlantic. And across the table from him with the purple gems he should have bought for her shining on her neck, and with eyes only for him. Katrina smiled a secret smile over her glass and in her eyes he could see all the things he would do with her, to her. She was his, she belonged to him.

_Vengeance_

Ichabod Crane lying in the dirt before him begging for mercy tears and snot mixing on his face, his clothes in tatters, his hair matted and in knots. He's begging for Katrina to come to him. But no, she would turn her back to him and turn her green eyes to her one true love, to Abraham. She would smile and kiss him, not a peck on the cheek, but a long, deep kiss that promised more. And Ichabod would weep. He would weep and cry and know what it was to have the thing he wanted most taken from him. And with his own hands and arms Abraham would raise the ax and severe Ichabod's head.

"All will be yours," the voice said. "And much more; power, wealth, immortality. All yours."

_What must I do?_

"Kill Ichabod Crane."

Though there was nothing left within him, though his heart barely beat, Abraham whispered one word: Yes.

His head was shaved. Good, he did not need the trappings of his noble finery. He was dressed as a Hession. Good, now Ichabod would know fear when Abraham found him, his heart would pound as the hoof beats of Abraham's horse chased him down. His hand was held out and the mark burned on him. Good, it was sealed now, a promise made in blood. When it was over, when he had Ichabod's head, Abraham would get all that had been promised to him.

The horse was brought forward it's eyes a fiery red. Abraham mounted quickly and spurned the animal on. Ichabod was close, and soon they would meet again.


End file.
